When Winter Falls
by KatieThomas'95
Summary: They have a complicated history, she and James. But she never gave up hope that he'd find her again. She just didn't realise how much their reunion would hurt. A trio of chapters looking at Bucky and Nat's interactions throughout the MCU, beginning after the fall of SHIELD and ending with IW. Established Clintasha, historic WinterWidow.
1. Chapter 1

A/N so I read a headcanon from tumblr (credit to whoever came up with it, I don't know who it was) and ran with it. The headcanon being that there's a saying in the Red Room, that where fall goes, winter follows or something like that. The idea being that the reason Nat kept her hair red throughout her career, including through countless undercover ops, was so that the Winter Soldier could find her again. So yeah, I ran with it. Historic winterwidow, established BlackHawk/Clintasha. This first chapter also references another of my fics, _In Every Way He Knows You Fear_ _._

This will probably be 3 chapters long, one for the Winter Soldier, one for Civil War and a final one for Infinity War. Buckle up buttercups, this might hurt.

* * *

There had been a saying in the Red Room, a whisper really. Where autumn goes, winter follows. And even after the brutal end of their time together, somehow that saying had proven itself true.

She knew he'd come. The Winter Soldier doesn't miss. She was alive (with a damn painful shoulder) because he wanted her to be. So it was no surprise to her when she walked into the kitchen of her off-the-books safehouse to find him sitting at her kitchen table. He looked tense, ready, with his back to the wall and an easy view of both entry points. Predictable really.

She sets her rucksack down by the door and walks over to the counter, feigning nonchalance. Really her heart is pounding in her chest. "Want a drink?" she asks, "I've got coffee or water." When she receives no response she runs two glasses of water and sets one down in front of him.

They sit for several minutes in silence. He looks at her intently, frowning. She knows that look, no doubt Clint had seen it on her more times than he'd care to count. The look of someone sifting through memories, real and imagined, trying to fit them into a narrative that made any kind of sense. She remembers clawing at her memories of James, the one person who showed her any compassion, the man she once loved with everything she had. The same man she has monitored from the shadows for years, ever since that bullet in Odessa.

He seems to reach a conclusion.

"I killed you." He says blankly.

"You shot me. Twice." She gestures vaguely to herself. "Still alive."

His lips purse in frustration and he shakes his head, a break in the calm façade. "No, not Odessa, not the other day." His metal hand clenches and he looks up at her, his face contorting in confused pain. "I killed you."

She hears the anguish in his voice. "Who am I talking to?" She asks carefully.

He looks away, almost ashamed. "I don't know" He croaks, and then his eyes return to hers. "Natalia." Her name is a strained whisper. "That's your name. I knew you. You were in the Red Room…" He closes his eyes, struggling to make sense of the memories through the fog of programming.

Her chest is in a vice. She remembers sparring with him, learning his rhythm, fighting for hours in something that was more a dance than actual combat. And she remembers actually dancing with him, and learning that physical contact didn't have to be an attack. She remembers feeling loved, and relearning how to love.

Her voice cracks. "James?"

His gaze snaps to hers. His eyes burn with self-loathing. "I killed you." He repeats. "I remember every punch. I beat you to death with my bare hands, because they ordered me to. You died in my arms…" His voice is quiet and trembles, but finishes harsh and strained. "I couldn't do anything to stop it."

"But you did. You broke through three times. You were still in there, fighting all the way." Her own anguish bleeds into her voice. "Do you remember what I said to you?" She looks at him and she knows. She knows he does. _It's not your fault, James. It isn't you._ "I meant what I said." She took a steadying breath. "Do you know what I remember? I remember you holding me, whispering how sorry you were."

And very slowly, she reaches out and takes his hand. Because it wasn't fair what happened to them, and nothing could ever take that pain away. They had butchered the mind of a good man, warped him in to something he had never wanted to be. They had ripped away everyone and everything either of them had ever cared about. And nothing could change that.

"You'll get your memories back. And as you do, it'll be messy and frightening and awful. And somewhere in amongst all those memories of horror and violence are the memories of a good man, who went to war with his friend, and who had a family who loved him."

He jerks away as though burned, his chair clattering onto the floor as he backs away. She isn't offended, although it hurts. She remembers shutting down in much the same way. She doesn't try to stop him as he strides to the door.

"You have people who care about you, and when you need us, we'll be there." She murmurs.

He turns back. "The man on the bridge, the one with the shield… I knew him." He says softly.

"You did." She replies, thinking for a moment. "There's an exhibit at the Smithsonian, about him." She glances at him carefully. "About you. If you're looking for a place to start, that's where I'd go."

The door shuts quietly behind him.

* * *

A/N keep an ear to the ground for the next chapter, let me know what you think in the meantime.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N this fic takes place in the same canon as _In Every Way He Knows You Fear_ and _BlackHawk One-shots from Ultron_ , i.e Clintasha are married and the farmhouse is theirs

* * *

The next time she sees him, he's back in a cage, bound by metal bands that look all too familiar. So much has happened in the last few days. She doesn't want to believe that James was responsible for the UN bombing, but she knows far better than Steve what can happen when the Soldier takes over.

"My name is Bucky." She watches him say. It shouldn't hurt to hear it but it does. She never knew Bucky. The man she had known was James; a broken man trying to piece himself together, to remember what it was to be a human being. They'd helped each other with that, learning to be more than the weapons they'd been designed as.

But Bucky had been a good man, had gone to war for his country then stayed in the war for his friend. He'd never spent a night in her arms, torn apart by rage and guilt, begging her to make the voices stop. So she understands why the man on the screen in front of her wants to be Bucky again. He has every right to be that man again.

The power cuts out and the chaos unfolds and she finds herself fighting the Soldier once again. With each blow she spat out a word from his deactivation sequence but to no avail. It had been changed since that fateful night. He has his hand to her throat and his eyes are utterly emotionless. James is not there, there is only the Soldier.

"You could at least recognise me." She chokes out, hoping that maybe James will break through. He doesn't. Her James is gone.

Then T'Challa tackles him and the pressure on her throat is gone. Gasping for breath, she levers herself off the table. Sharon has stumbled to her feet and is looking over to her to check she's okay. Natasha plasters a wry smile onto her face. "I think that went well."

* * *

Within a week she's made her way to Wakanda. She knows a lot of shit went down in Siberia and now she's mentally plotting her route on the run for the next however many years. Part of her wonders if this new underground team needs a cool name.

But she's just distracting herself. She doesn't want to think about how the farmhouse is no longer safe. She and Clint have had that house for over a decade and now they can never go back. Their wedding rings are in that house but if they try to retrieve them they risk their freedom. There's a hollow ache in her chest that has nothing to do with the airport fight and everything to do with the fact she just lost her home.

She's got some damage control to do and Clint is busy setting up new safehouses. It's like they've backtracked 15 years, back to living out of a duffel bag, back to moving from place to place, always looking over their shoulder. But this time it's worse because it's not just international intelligence agencies hunting them in the shadows. Now they're wanted fugitives and 97% of the 7 billion inhabitants of the planet know their faces.

She's pulled from her thoughts by a quiet knock on the door. Turning, she sees the door open to reveal James, standing awkwardly in the hallway. She can't help herself, she's immediately on edge. She looks at him intently, involuntarily checking for any hint of the Soldier.

He catches her in the act. "I'm me." He says softly, shrugging and drawing her gaze to stump of his left arm. "Although I'm not really sure what 'me' is anymore." He pauses, closing the door behind him. He slumps into a chair. "I think you know what that's like."

"Better than most." She replies honestly, pulling up a chair to sit next to him.

He hesitates. "I catch glimpses of the man I was before the war. Bucky, the man who was Steve's best friends. I remember snippets of him…" He trails off and looks at her hopelessly.

"You want to be that man again." She thinks she knows why he has come to see her, and dread wells in her stomach.

He nods. "More than anything. But how do I reconcile the man I was, the man I should have been, with the man I have become? They're still inside my head. How can I walk around knowing that just one person with the right combination can strip me of my free will and use me for… for…" He shakes his head. "I can't live like this."

She sighs. "I don't know how to help you, James." And as she says his name, he flinches. And that dread pooling in her stomach twists into a knot.

He is silent for a long moment, trying to choose the right words. "I know I'm not in control when the Soldier takes over. I understand that." His hand has his knee in a vice grip and he squeezes his eyes shut. She can hear the heavy emotion in his voice. "But there were things I did as me, as James, where I was in control. I don't understand it… The James you knew, and the Winter Soldier, they're too closely linked. It's like parts of them seeped into each other over the years." His knuckles are stark white. "And I hate them." He whispers vehemently.

He looks at her, agonised. "You were the one good thing, Natalia." Slow tears escape his eyes, tracing their way down his cheeks. "But I can't live like this. I'm going back into cryo, so that Shuri can take the programming out of my head." He pauses again and reaches for her hand. "She doesn't know what effect the treatment will have on my memories, but I think I do."

She squeezes his hand. "You're here to say goodbye." She says softly.

All he can do is nod. And hold on to her hand for all he's worth. Silence hangs between them.

Eventually she summons the strength to whisper "It's okay"

She sees confusion in his eyes.

Her voice trembles but she swallows her pain. "Bucky was a good man, a kind man, and you deserve the chance to be him again." She has tears in her eyes and her heart aches for the man she once loved. She loves Clint with all her heart. But James was the only person in her youth who had ever shown her a shred of kindness, the only person who had treated her as a human being and not a weapon. Now she was losing him all over again.

They stand, and she pulls him into a tight hug. It doesn't feel right with his left arm missing but she desperately commits the way it feels, the way he smells, to memory. Because this will be the last time he truly knows her. "Goodbye, James" She whispers.

"Goodbye, Natalia."

When the door shuts behind him, she rests her forehead against it and sobs.

* * *

A/N yes i know, i'm cruel, but if i get this pain then so do you.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time she sees him, her hair is blonde.

The next time she sees him, the man she remembers looks straight through her. And it shouldn't kill her, but it does.

They fight side by side for a time, she and Bucky. But the rhythm she had with James is gone, the dance is over, and they drift apart on the battlefield. She doesn't see him again until Thanos arrives and it's a last ditch effort to buy Wanda enough time to lose everything she loves all over again.

Then he's gone.

She sees the grief on Steve's face and her heart aches on his behalf. Understanding his pain better than anyone, she wraps her arms around him. And when he clings to her and sobs, she does her best to comfort him.

But inside, she just feels numb because well… she's been mourning the loss of the man she'd loved for two years. What's one more day?


End file.
